Wali Dad
Once upon a time there lived a poor old
man whose name was Wali Dad Gun jay, or Wali Dad the Bald. He had no relations, but lived all by himself
in a little mud hut some distance from any town, and made his living by cutting
grass in the jungle, and selling it as fodder for horses.
In this way he lived for many years
until, one night, he thought that he would count the money he had hidden away
in the great earthen pot under the floor of his hut. Time passed by, and at length the merchant
arrived in the course of his travels at the capital of Khaistan. As soon as he
had opportunity he presented himself at the palace, and sent in the bracelet,
neatly packed in a little perfumed box provided by himself, giving at the same
time the message entrusted to him by Wali Dad. As before, the merchant at last arrived at
home; and next day, h set out for Wali Dad’s house with the twelve horses. When
the old man saw them coming in the distance he said to himself: ‘Here’s luck! a
troop of horses coming! They are sure to want quantities of grass, and I shall
sell all I have without having to drag it to market. This time the prince, too, was embarrassed,
and questioned the merchant closely.
The moment the king of Khaistan
saw the gorgeous train of men and beasts entering his palace courtyard, he was
so amazed that he hurried down in person to inquire about it, and became dumb
when he heard that these also were a present from the princely Wali Dad, and
were for the princess, his daughter. The princess agreed with all that her father
said, and orders were issued for vast numbers of elephants and camels, and
gorgeous tents and flags, and litters for the ladies, and horses for the men,
to be prepared without delay, as the king and princess were going to pay a
visit to the great and munificent prince Wali Dad. The merchant, the king
declared, was to guide the party. As soon as the merchant was gone Wali
Dad made up his mind that there was only one honourable way out of the shame
and distress that he had created by his foolishness, and that was—to kill
himself. Then Wali Dad told the merchant all that had happened. By his
advice he sent an invitation to the king and princess of Khaistan to come and
be his guests, together with all their retinue and servants, down to the very
humblest in the camp. To this the king agreed, and Wali Dad sent the
merchant to Nekabad, with a number of attendants, and with such handsome
presents that the prince came at once, fell head over ears in love with the
princess, and married her at Wali Dad’s palace amidst a fresh outburst of
rejoicings. There was one tortoi
in particular that always managed to get the
better of everybody, and many were the tales told in the forest of his great
deeds. They began when he was quite young, and tired of staying at home with
his father and mother. He left them one day, and walked off in search of
adventures. The other turtles, who were standing at the door, saw their
leader disappear, and felt it was their duty as soldiers to follow him; and,
springing into the pot, died too.
In conclusion, I think this story to be
movie better than story. I really like this story and the best story for me. I suggest
that for my friends to read this story.
